Disclaimer: None, other than any resemblance to any persons,
living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are mine.

Teaser: (tag line) In 1977, women thought they joined the
peacetime Army. They were dead wrong.

Description: Two military undercover agents infiltrate the first
male/female integrated basic training/law enforcement school
program in hope of finding a murderer in a race against time. The
two women unveil a lot more than is intended during their stint as
'trainees', encountering blatant sexism, harassment,
discrimination, dead-ends, betrayals and love as the boundaries of
friendship, obligation, loyalty and honor are tested to the
limit.

Content Warning: This is a story about the military. There is
bad language, sex (some of it is heterosexual) and
violence.

Other Information: This story is my baby and it is very long,
which is why I am posting it in sections. It is a complete story
but I am transferring it from paper to disk, another reason for the
sectional posting. PTR is as much about the trials and tribulations
of basic training as it is one woman's personal journey through
this time frame, which is why there will be sometimes as many
paragraphs spent on military detail as on the lead
characters.

*****

Part II

Chapter One

Two weeks had felt like two days and before Dale knew it, she
was flying into Marietta, Georgia, a neutral airfield where Anne
Bishaye believed she could pick Dale up and not run the risk of
being seen by anyone from Tenth Battalion. The original plan was
for the undercover lieutenant to come back to Averill a day or two
early, brief her boss on what she had accomplished while she had
been away and then relax before she had to return to her mission at
McCullough. Now the strategy was Anne would drive Dale to Atlanta
where she would drop the lieutenant off on the north side of town
and Dale would take a bus to the Atlanta Airport, hooking up with a
few of her fellow trainees for the bus ride back to post.

Dale conveniently came up with an excuse to get out of having to
spend the night at the Bishayes' home. She had no idea what could
or could not have transpired between Anne and her, especially with
Jack not in the house, and maybe nothing at all would have happened
but she was not willing to run that risk.

The thought of actually being confronted, face to face, with her
feelings for the enchanting colonel in an environment that could
have very well included a bedroom and an absent husband, was too
much for Dale at this point of her self-discovery to deal with.
Dale, knowing she wanted Anne Bishaye sexually, and knowing she
couldn't, shouldn't have her, was enough for her to not tempt
herself, unnecessarily. She had not forgotten what Bishaye had said
to her just before leaving Vermont but since the colonel made no
move to act upon the intent from those words (or clarify them) and
probably wouldn't, especially after the Kirk incident, Dale was
left in carnal limbo.

The thought of being with Anne, alone, thrilled her while the
thought of not being with her alone, relieved her. If she could
have gotten out of meeting her at the airport that day, she would
have but she knew she had to get together with her boss, her
friend, to not only brief her but receive a report on what had been
going on, if anything, during her absence.

Still, when Dale got into Bishaye's car and studied the
beautiful woman behind the wheel as unobtrusively as possible, the
lieutenant suddenly wished she had returned the day before; that
the sensual colonel had seduced her, as she had so many times in
her daydreams.

"You look exhausted," Anne observed and smiled easily, as they
drove out of Marietta toward Atlanta. "Some vacation. Walker looks
more rested than you do."

"She probably is," Dale commented and stretched out as much as
the front seat would allow. "So, while we're on the subject, what
is going on with Walker?"

"Absolutely nothing. She said you would understand this;
Swinegar has turned into the perfect bimbo, which, fortunately,
hasn't gotten her anywhere, Michaelson plays a mean card game and
Cassey is a sore loser. Other than that everyone has been well
behaved, minded their own business, done details and hung around. I
understand the part about Michaelson and Cassey...what about
Swinegar?"

"Probably nothing. She's got a wild crush on Drill Sergeant
Robin and we thought since she stayed for Christmas exodus, we'd
keep an eye on her behavior with him, being that he was one of the
NCOs in charge of Christmas company. We figured if a move was to be
made on him by her or vice versa, this would have been the ideal
time to do it. Obviously nothing happened but I have a feeling that
wasn't from lack of trying on Swinegar's part. But let me say again
that both Shannon and I feel, in no way, Swinegar's overzealous
crush on Robin is anything more than just that."

"So what about you? I can only assume you came up empty,
too."

"Nothing else has happened since I called you last
week."

"Was that you that called me last week?" Anne kidded. "I thought
I was speaking to someone at a lumberjack convention during dueling
buzzsaws."

"Dale...I never know with you. So, refresh me since I could
barely understand you."

"I talked to Stuart's girlfriend, who is helium from the
shoulders up, did I mention that before? It was like conversing
with a vacuum. She gave me absolutely no information. Then I spoke
to everyone in Stuart's art class and that came up a dead end, too.
She had only been in class for two weeks so nobody really got to
know her. And nobody admitted to giving her a ride home after class
at any time. Everybody had alibis for the night of the murder. I
spoke with Stuart's mother, who let me look over all of her
daughter's personal effects and that was a complete no go,
too."

"Was her mother able to help you with anything?"

"Nada. Zip. I guess because of Carolyn's lifestyle, she and her
mother were barely speaking. They footed the bill for Carolyn's
funeral but neither she nor her husband attended. In fact, they had
already tossed a lot of stuff. I was lucky to be able to get my
hands on what I did. Not that it helped me."

"Were you able to track down the people who did show up at the
funeral?"

"I was able to talk with a few but not all. Sharon Burke is
looking into the rest of the crowd and said she would let me know
immediately if she comes across anything more odd than what we
already have."

"Burke is a sharp woman. If something looks out of place, I am
sure she will spot it."

"Which reminds me, could you possibly look into talking her into
staying in? What a waste if she gets out."

"I agree. We discussed her situation when she called me about
Stuart's murder. It was very unfair, how all that transpired with
her and I told her I would make a few calls. I have done that and,
hopefully it will make a difference."

"Well, I just saw her and she hasn't changed her mind
yet."

"These things take time, Dale. You are too
impatient."

"She doesn't have a lot of time left."

Anne sighed. "All right, I will call her again and give her one
of my patented Fort Ord MP pep talks."

"Jeez, don't bore her to death, I want you to give her incentive
to stay not remind her of why she wants to leave," Dale said,
kidding.

The colonel arched an eyebrow and glanced over at her young
friend. "Remind me again why I like you?"

"I can't, for the life of me, think of one reason." This is what
Dale most enjoyed and now missed about her friendship with Bishaye;
the playful banter that dangled between insult and flirting. Now,
every word that left either of their lips seemed suspect to double
meanings and the ease with which they traded barbs before had now
become strained. Now, with the confused undercover lieutenant
realizing the exact intent of her true feelings for the colonel,
Dale felt she needed to be cautious with what she said and just how
she said it. She did not want to make a fool of herself with this
woman who caused her insides to shudder with pleasurable and
unrequited anticipation at just the mere thought of her. She was
startled out of her contemplation by a slight slap on her
arm.

"Where'd you go?" Anne questioned, curiously.

"Nowhere. Just thinking."

"About?"

"The case. So...I then contacted the same people Shannon saw
before training started and nobody gave me anything new.
Everybody's story is still the same, so that was a big waste of
time." She yawned and stretched out again, a languorous move that
unintentionally came across as highly erotic and it did not go
unnoticed by the attentive colonel.

Dale had no idea how really attractive and alluring she was
without even trying and her unassuming nature concerning that was
one of Bishaye's favorite attributes regarding the CID agent. What
Dale didn't, couldn't understand was that the battalion commander
was also torn by her feelings for the young undercover lieutenant,
the pull between them so obviously much more than professional.
Anne could not really believe that Dale couldn't sense her
attraction, as well. But her emotions went much deeper than even
Dale could have guessed.

"What's going on with the cadre? I really need a head's up here
because they certainly are a mixed bunch."

"MacArthur and Kathan have been replaced. So I have no idea to
tell you what to expect there."

"What about the others?"

"What do you want me to say, Dale? Yes, they are all a little
crazy but they have a right to be with everything going on right
now."

"Some may be a little crazier than others and I think they were
that way long before this case developed into what it is." Greeted
with dead silence, Dale decided to confront the one work issue she
knew was throwing a wedge between them. They had danced around it
long enough and she wanted it out in the open. "You know, you
really pissed me off about the Kirk thing."

Anne immediately bristled and fired back with, "Yeah? Well, you
pissed me off, too. When you saw she was going to be trouble, you
should have stayed away from her. But no, not you. Trouble is like
a magnet to your steel. If you are anywhere near it, it draws you
right to it."

Dale was a little taken aback by Anne's sharp tone and how her
temper had flared so quickly on this subject but backing down now
was not an option. "I don't often tell you that you're wrong, Anne,
you know that, because you rarely are and I respect your judgment.
But you and your tight little cadre miscalled that one. I'm not
sorry I got involved with her situation and I would do it all over
again except if I could have foreseen the outcome, I would have
walked her out Main Gate myself in the middle of the night," Dale
argued, her voice elevated to match the older
officer's.

"You disobeyed a direct order from me, Dale!" the colonel yelled
at her, gripping the steering wheel so tight, the color drained
from her hands and fingers.

"What the fuck is with you and this 'order' bullshit? You got
over ordering me to do things a long time ago."

"Really? When was that?"

"When you started asking instead...when I thought we had become
friends." Dale was sounding resentful now. "You know,
Colonel, it's not just the Kirk thing, it's your whole
attitude lately that pisses me off! And don't tell me that it's
your job. Sell that crap to a farmer for fertilizer."

Bishaye suddenly pulled over to the side of the road, driving
far enough away from the flow of traffic, where they would not be a
hazard to any passing vehicles. She threw the car into 'park' and
neither had noticed just how secluded they were. When she turned to
face her young friend, the irate older officer placed her hand on
the back of Dale's seat. "You have no idea what goes on at my rank,
what is expected of me in the position I have!" Anne spit out. "I'm
already tired of your innuendo that I've somehow become as cold and
as calculating as some of our superiors who are only trying to make
rank so that they can conquer the world. I have an impossible job
and you know it doesn't matter how many connections I have, I will
forever be under a microscope doing what I do because I am a female
in an experimental position of power! If I fail, you know it
doesn't just look bad for me, Dale, it looks bad for all women in
the military! Youknow that. You know that I am expected to
walk on water and not even get the bottoms of my feet wet when I do
it because if I do - despite the fact that my competitor, Colonel
Joe Shit The Ragman, has made repeated obvious mistakes - if I make
one, one mistake, he will be promoted and I will be removed and
disgraced because in DAs eyes, I couldn't cut it! And all because
I'm a female; no other reason. So don't you dare sit there and give
me shit about things of which you can only scratch the surface!"
Her eyes flashed angrily at every syllable.

"Fine! That part I can understand but what about us? You used to
be able to talk to me about this stuff, you used to share with me
the frustrations of your job, you used to tell me to watch what you
were doing because some day I would learn from your mistakes and be
able to do it better! You used to call me every once in a while to
show me that you cared. You created me, Anne! You built me from
scratch to be your perfect little soldier, molding me into exactly
what the Department of the Army wanted, with you singularly being
in charge of me. It was great when I was making you proud and you
were getting all the attention when my apprehensions were valid and
lauded. Then I get hurt and I'm no longer a priority. I know you
were there in the hospital when I woke up but after that, you moved
on. And I barely saw you or heard from you, like I was no longer
useful so I was no longer important to you. And that hurt. A lot."

There. It was out. And the truth in Dale's words and the pain in
her voice silenced both of them. When the lieutenant looked into
the colonel's eyes, the depth of emotion was intangible. Before
either woman could reply to what Dale had presented, Anne grabbed a
fistful of the younger officer's jacket and yanked her closer,
threading her other hand through the CID agent's hair and pulled
their faces together. Before she lost her nerve, Anne seized Dale's
lips, pressing her own against them with a passion to match her
previous anger.

The action surprised and stunned Dale. At first, she was too
shocked to react any other way than rigidly, trying to comprehend
the less-than-diplomatic moment and then it hit her. Anne Bishaye
was kissing her! Anne Bishaye! The woman who occupied all
of her lesbian fantasies. While the soft lips ground down on hers,
it only took another second for Dale to snap out of her awkwardly
confused state and begin responding to this dream come true.

Sliding one hand behind the colonel's head and the other cupping
her face, Dale tried to adjust her breathing as she let instinct
take over. Tentatively, she moved her lips against Bishaye's,
afraid Anne would come to her senses and break the contact and come
up with a logical reason why what was happening, had happened. But
then, since Dale never did anything tentatively and couldn't have
cared less about logic at that point, she advanced more
aggressively, daringly outlining the colonel's lips with her
tongue, causing a low moan to emanate from Anne's throat.

The older officer took that invitation and lightly sucked Dale's
tongue into her mouth, dancing with it once it was there. Seconds,
minutes passed as the kiss intensified and the women continued to
explore a new side of their relationship, a different kind of need
neither ever thought they would acknowledge, much less satisfy with
each other.

Dale reveled in the softness of Anne's lips and, at the same
time, was captured by the sheer virility behind the kiss, the power
alone in the gesture. But she expected nothing less from Anne
Bishaye as the colonel never did anything timidly. With every
sexual nerve ending tingling, the younger woman knew they would
either have to stop now or they never would. Even though they were
somewhat isolated from the main road, they still could get caught
and, as difficult as it was to put the brakes on, neither really
wanted to run the risk of being discovered doing what they were
doing.

Reluctantly breaking the contact, Anne put pressure on Dale's
shoulders to gently push herself away. Both women's eyes were
closed, the only sound in the car being heavy
breathing.

"I shouldn't have done that," Anne gasped and put her hand over
her eyes as though she were shielding her exposed emotions from the
younger woman.

"Why? I think you know why. I'm married. I'm your boss. The
military would destroy us. I'm not gay. You're not gay. How many
reasons do you want?"

"How can two people who aren't gay kiss like we just
did?"

Anne looked down and conveyed embarrassment. "I don't know. I
can't and won't try to explain it. You and I have
something...primal...going on between us, we always have. It defies
reasonable explanation. I know you usually take your cue from me
and I'm sorry. I should have had better command of my
actions."

Dale had to rein in the urge to scream, 'I wanted you to
kiss me!' Maybe she should have thrown herself at the woman
who had just ignited her blood as the colonel seemed to be
desperately wrestling with her own self-control. Or maybe she would
just let the older officer believe that Dale was strictly a
lesbiAnne and drop it.

Anne still reeled from what had just taken place between them,
took a deep breath and exhaled, finally releasing her grip on
Dale's jacket. This prompted the lieutenant to slide back toward
the passenger side of the bench-type seat, away from the object of
her affection.

"All this and you still talk like a C.O.," Dale smiled. She
looked back up at the colonel and saw an expression that now seemed
distant and sad. Dale interpreted it also as remorse and regret.
"Hey, don't sweat it. We don't ever have to talk about it
again."

Anne ran her hand through her auburn hair and focused her
attention out the driver's side window. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. You said that. So, why, uh, don't we get back on the
road?" She watched as Anne put the car into 'drive' and merged the
vehicle back into traffic. "I guess this is it for private meetings
for a while."

"Unless it's absolutely necessary, yes." She glanced over at the
younger woman next to her. "Especially in lieu of
today..."

"Look, either we're going to talk about it or not. If we're not,
stop referring to it. If we are, let's talk," Dale told her,
annoyed.

"I just don't think talking will accomplish
anything."

"Fine. Then how 'bout them Yankees, huh?" Dale was a little
disturbed that she had started to choke up. She swallowed the lump
in her throat and focused her attention out the passenger side
window.

Anne couldn't help but laugh. "It's football season and you're
living in Alabama, you'd fare better asking how them Crimson Tide
are doing."

"Okay, I just want to say one thing and then I'll drop it. I
know I get on your nerves. I know I can be unorthodox and hard to
handle but you could and you can always deal with me. Regardless of
the obstacles put before us, we always worked through it. Whatever
this is, whatever happened today, whatever has been happening to
cause this friction - the good and the bad, which I'm not too sure
aren't related - we will work through this, too. Because, despite
my bitching, I believe in you, Anne. Always have and always will
and I never want to do anything to let you down. And...um...if my
letting you kiss me and then kissing you back in any way let you
down, I apologize. I will readily admit that I suffer from a little
bit of hero worship."

The colonel was not prepared for this confession from her young
friend. She tried to disguise being overcome with Dale's honesty
and what it meant to her. The only thing she could come up with to
say was, "Well, you shouldn't."

"I know. I know better," Dale said and smirked. "We've changed,
haven't we?" She received a nod from Anne and continued, "I thought
it was just you at first but it's both of us, isn't
it?"

The colonel resisted the urge to reach over and touch Dale's
arm. "Unfortunately. You've changed, too, Dale. When you first came
to my company at Ord, you were wide-eyed and innocent, very
respectful of rank and position. You were your average, every day,
small town girl coming to the 'big city' and very eager to
please."

"I'm still eager to please. Except now it's me I'm eager to
please and not the Army. You can't fault me for wising up."
Although it was more than evident that she was also eager to please
Anne Bishaye.

"You're cynical. You have every right to be, of course, but
you're only twenty-four years old. You're too young to be so
disillusioned. I just wish you hadn't been so Goddamned good at
this."

Curiously, Dale studied her. "Why is that?"

"Because then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. And maybe if you
hadn't been so good at it, you would not have been MP material and
you would have been recycled. Or you just would have been bounced
to another MOS. I mean, who knows? You'd probably be out by now,
doing something unrelated and productive and searching for your
happily ever after."

"I don't believe in happily ever after." Especially
now, she thought, with you so close yet so very
far.

"No, you don't now because you have jaundiced
ideals."

"If you had left me alone in Vermont, maybe I could have gotten
my life on track but you forced me back into service and not even
for something good. I mean, if I had to come back in, why am I
being wasted on this chickenshit assignment?"

Anne paused momentarily and then said, "I wouldn't call a what's
happening in Tenth Battalion and a murder exactly chickenshit."

"Anne, we still don't know if Stuart's death is even related and
we have no clue whether whoever is behind all this is even going to
strike again. I can't speak for Shannon and I really don't know
what her CID experience is other than being on loan to them for a
few months when she was an XO at Bliss but my experience and skills
are way beyond this. This isn't a sure thing and Shannon and I
could spend another three months here and have no more than we have
right now. In the meantime, I'm not sure my foot is going to make
it. I'm not pleased with the idea that I could end up in a
wheelchair for something that isn't even going to produce results.
If you had intel that told me, for sure, that this cycle was going
to be affected then I would have no problem doing my job and
waiting for it to happen and then do what I had to do to get the
case resolved. I should have been assigned to Stuart's murder
before I was put here."

"A lot of things should have been done differently but they
weren't. And..." Anne sounded almost wistful, "I thought it would
be nice that you and I could be together again."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Dale asked bravely, "Then why can't we
be?"

"Please, Dale," Anne said, quietly, "you know I didn't mean it
like that and you know why."

No, she didn't. Not really. Dale knew that Anne would reiterate
about marriage, career, orientation but, as for why, when they both
obviously felt the way they did, they could not discreetly meet
every once in a while to get whatever 'this' was out of their
systems. "So, we're just supposed to ignore our feelings for each
other? Forget that kiss?"

Silently, Bishaye drove and just stared straight ahead. Then,
finally, she said, "I won't ever forget that kiss, Dale, and you
have no idea how much I would love to do it again. But we can't. I
love my husband and it could only end badly for you and
me."

"Why? I know you love me, too." She had wondered when she had
gone from sounding strong to sounding pathetic.

"Yes, Dale, I do. But not enough to give up my career for," she
admitted, bluntly.

As difficult as it had been to hear Anne's words, as much as it
hurt, Dale knew it had been harder for Anne to say them. Dale,
knowing the colonel as well she did, would have been shocked if
Anne had been anything less than direct. In a way, it was better
that Anne was candid now than let Dale think there was even a
chance for them to be together. She wanted to ask Anne about her
parting statement at the Rutland airport but realized that her boss
would probably tell her that, like today, she had a lapse in
judgment and leave it at that. 'I've really missed you. More
than you'll ever know or I want to admit. I need you near me, Dale,
I can't lose you again.' Even at face value, that was an odd
declaration for someone who didn't want to be more than friends.

*********************

The ride to Atlanta was uncomfortably quiet as both women became
lost in their own thoughts, their own private regrets. Finally, the
colonel brought Dale out of the hypnotizing hum of the car and the
rhythm of the road seams being crossed by the tires. "Are you
okay?" Her tone was one of concern.

"I will be," Dale assured. "I'm a big girl."

"I know you are."

"I'm just confused about us, that's all."

"So am I," Anne admitted, truthfully. "But I have to keep things
in perspective and the bottom line is an affair would not be
productive for either one of us. It may be momentarily gratifying
but the end result would be disastrous for us both. As tempting as
the thought is..."

"So you have thought about it?"

Anne glanced at Dale, who was staring at her, then returned her
attention to the road ahead of her. "It's crossed my mind. You have
an energy, an intensity, that is very hard to resist and you and I
connected from the moment we met. We have, basically, fulfilled all
of each other's needs except sexually. Before you, the idea of
being with a woman was very, very foreign to me. Not that I think
it's wrong, it's just something that never interested me. I love
men, I love Jack but you drew something out in me that was
different, undefinable. I have wanted to kiss you for a very long
time, to know how your lips felt on mine, to feel that link which
could not be accomplished any other way -"

"Then why did you stop us?" Dale asked, as the memory of that
kiss flooded every part of her body.

"Because I could see it spiraling out of control very quickly
and I don't think either one of us would have been ready for
that."

"And you have to be in control. Always. Don't you?" There was a
hint of bitterness in Dale's tone.

"Yes," Anne responded. "I do."

Dale wanted to scream out of sheer frustration. If Anne only
knew. She decided to change the subject. "When are you going to
give your battalion speech? You're overdue."

"Tomorrow," Anne replied, surprised by the abrupt change in
conversation.

"Just make it more compelling than Colton's. What a piece of
shit CO he is."

Anne sighed. "He isn't that bad. You two just got off on the
wrong foot."

"Wrong foot? I could be a centipede and I still wouldn't have
enough feet for us to get off on the right one."

Pulling up to the curb, around the corner from the bus station,
Anne was glad they weren't going to have the time to get into that
discussion. "Gee, Dale, I would love to rehash this with you but
you need to get to the airport so that you can ride back to
McCullough with your fellow trainees. Who knows what you could
learn on the trip back?"

Getting out of the car, Dale removed her suitcase from the back
seat. She walked around to the driver's side. "Thanks for the ride,
Colonel. It was very...educational."

Nodding, Anne said, "We're okay, right?"

"As okay as we can be under the circumstances, I guess." Dale
put her hand up and made a small waving motion. "See you
tomorrow."

"Bye," Anne said, as she watched Dale walk away from the car,
turning right at the corner and disappearing behind a building.
If you only knew, Anne thought.

Chapter Two

The ride to the Atlanta Airport by bus was short but incredibly
lonely. Dale was numb and could not help but feel a loss at what
had happened between her and the woman of her dreams. But every now
and then, out of nowhere, a smile would split her face as the full
recollection of the kiss would attack her brain and surge
unabashedly to her sexual places, reminding her that she had kissed
Anne Bishaye. It didn't matter that she could not tell anyone or
that it would go no further between them. The memory would always
be hers.

***************

She had waited an hour in the USO room with the others until the
announcement was made that the coach had arrived to take the
military personnel back to McCullough. Dale immensely enjoyed the
bus ride back. In the two-and-a-half hour trip, she, Kotski,
Tramonte and Tierni shared a lot of tales from their exodus from
post and two forbidden bottles of Mad Dog 20-20. Alcohol was not
allowed on the bus but that didn't stop the only four women on the
bus from partaking, when Tierni had produced the 'contraband' from
her large purse. If ever Dale needed a drink, it was now. Before
they reached the main gates of McCullough, Tierni placed the two
empty bottles back in their brown paper sack and stuck them in the
overhead luggage rack. She ignored Dale's suggestion of dropping
them down the commode, where even the most persistent drill
sergeant would not have stuck his or her hands.

When the commercially chartered bus pulled up to the on-post
depot, the riders were divided up and put onto two military
coaches. The vehicles remained stationery, idling, while the
civilian bus drove away. Within moments, a vile-looking male drill
sergeant stepped purposefully onto the bus in which Dale and her
pals were now seated. All conversation ceased as the staff sergeant
established his presence by just standing there. He then raised his
left arm high into the air and in his grasp was a familiar looking
paper bag.

"Oh, shit..." Tramonte whispered, softly, closing her
eyes.

"Whose whiskey bottles are these?" he roared, and
slapped the bag with his right hand, causing the empty bottles
inside to clink together. He hesitated a reasonable amount of time.
"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION! WHOSE WHISKEY BOTTLES ARE THESE?" Again,
his query was greeted with silence. The drill sergeant scanned the
blank faces. "Well, I'll tell you what...until somebody confesses,
these buses ain't goin' nowhere. I don't care if your sorry asses
sit here for three days and you all get nailed for
AWOL."

The occupants of the bus returned his stare, looking genuinely
innocent, with the exception of the only four females in the back,
who were all thinking, 'Well, we weren't drinking whiskey, we
were drinking wine, so maybe those really aren't ours,' even
though they all knew they were guilty. They watched the staff
sergeant exit their bus and climb aboard the next bus. Reading his
obviously shouting lips, the Alpha women saw that he was repeating
the same message to the other group.

"What are we going to do?" Tierni asked, in a desperate
whisper.

"Nothing," Dale advised, under her breath.

"You should have shoved them down the toilet like Oakes said,"
Kotski intoned, softly, through clenched teeth.

"Shhhhh, he's coming back," Tramonte warned.

The drill sergeant boarded the bus again and began walking down
the aisle, stopping at each seat, bending down so that he could
smell everyone's breath as they answered. "Are these your whiskey
bottles?"

The response of "No, Drill Sergeant" was repeated until he
reached Tramonte and Tierni. He studied them intently and then
looked behind them at Dale and Kotski. Passing over the four of
them, he proceeded to ask the remaining males on the bus. When he
got back up to the front, he instructed the driver to carry on. As
the driver pulled away, everyone breathed a sigh of
relief.

"Why do you think he skipped over us?" Tramonte
asked.

"He probably didn't think we had the guts to do it, being female
and all," Kotski commented.

"I never thought I would say thank God for discrimination, but I
am so glad we got out of it," Tierni said.

So am I, Dale thought, not wanting to imagine having to
be hauled before the battalion commander
now.

*****************

The Alpha trainees were dropped off at Tenth Battalion at
twelve-forty A.M. and signed in at 0045 hours. Dale was the last to
file into the Orderly Room, surprised to find Shannon on CQ duty.
As Dale signed in, Shannon had a knowing smile on her
face.

"What?" Dale asked, wondering about her partner's
smirk.

"You four smell like a still."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Shannon laughed. "You stink. What was your
pleasure?"

"MD 20-20."

"Woh! Good luck getting up tomorrow."

Dale smiled. "No task too tough. How are things
here?"

"Real quiet."

"What time are you off CQ?"

"One."

"See ya upstairs?"

"No way. I'm going to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow,
including a scheduled speech by the battalion
commander."

"Oh, great," Dale said, sounding annoyed for Shannon's CQ
runner's benefit. "That will probably be like a sedative, as if we
need that."

"That's why I want to get my rest tonight, so that I am not
tempted."

Dale grinned at her and stated, sarcastically, "I wish I could
be as dedicated as you."

"Fuck you very much."

"You're welcome."

********************

0430 hours came much too early, especially for those with a
fermented grape hangover. Dale was not one of them, however, and
she fell asleep instantly and woke up clear-headed, her dreams
overrun by having sex with Anne Bishaye. That was not going to make
her seeing the delectable colonel any easier that
day.

Surprisingly, no one missed formation, where the buzz was that
one female did not return. Bonnie Kramer was officially AWOL at
0520 hours. Kramer was the last person Dale thought would not come
back. She seemed pretty settled in with the military lifestyle and
the plans she had for herself and her husband when she got
permanently assigned. Three females disobeyed orders and got
married over exodus without permission from Battalion or prior
counseling from the chaplain, which was required now that they were
in the Army. Lesley Jaffe was now Lesley Flack, Lesley Minkler was
now Lesley Horan and Tracy Travis was now Tracy Novak. The drill
sergeants, however, refused to recognize their marital status and
would still refer to them by their maiden names.

It was obvious that no one, with the exception of Christmas
Company, had continued to do PT during the approximate fifteen day
break. The platoon sergeants were clearly conscious of this and
drilled their troops extra hard that morning, some to the point
where eating chow afterward would have sent them reeling
immediately into the latrine.

At 0800, all four companies that made up Tenth Battalion were
marched to Quigly Auditorium, directly across from the Alpha
Company area, where they were to be addressed by the Battalion
Commander. Command Sergeant Major Hernan Soledad was the first to
appear on stage. He was a short but hefty man with a salt and
pepper buzzcut. He stood stage right and spoke to the soldiers
without the unnecessary aid of a microphone. "YOU WILL STAND WHEN
COLONEL BISHAYE COMES ONTO THIS STAGE AND WHEN SHE LEAVES! YOU WILL
YELL A 'GOOD MORNING, MA'AM' THAT WILL BE HEARD AROUND THIS POST!
AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

"YES, SERGEANT MAJOR!" the mostly male audience
responded.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, LADIES?"

"YES, SERGEANT MAJOR!!"

"THAT'S BETTER." He looked over the crowd of maybe five hundred
GIs, give or take a few drill sergeants. "BATTALION!
ATTENTION!"

The entire auditorium was on its feet and at rigid attention
when Anne Bishaye walked on stage and stood behind the podium. Dale
couldn't see her with everyone standing but her heart traitorously
fluttered when she heard the colonel's voice say, "Good morning,
Tenth Battalion," she spoke into the microphone.

"Nice," she nodded and smiled. "At ease, take your seats," she
commanded. In unison, her audience sat.

Dale observed Bishaye scanning the crowd and felt a mixture of
sadness and pride. She turned to look at the reaction of her peers
and she noticed a majority of the men were staring at Bishaye with
startled admiration, obviously shocked at the colonel's movie star
appearance. Dale suppressed a smile, knowing that they would soon
find out that their battalion commander was as strict as she was
gorgeous.

"I'm sure each one of you is finding your stay at sunny Fort
McCullough a real pleasure," Anne began amid a lot of snickers and
throat clearing. "I hope each of you had an enjoyable holiday. I
know I did. Now, down to business. First, let me apologize if I
repeat some of what you have already heard from your company
commanders, however, some things are important enough to say
again.

"I'd like to begin with the importance of OSUT. One Station Unit
Training means you are going through Basic Combat Training and
Advanced Individual Training - LE School, in your case - in the
same company, with the same drill instructors, with the same
trainees. This is also the first time men and women will go through
basic combat training together. It's all experimental and it's
going to depend on all of you to prove to the Department of the
Army whether or not it is possible to continue this kind of
co-educational training, altering the entire program so that
everyone, not just MP trainees, can go through BCT together with no
separation for male and female except for billeting. That would
mean the Women's Army Corps would be phased out, altogether, and we
would just have one Army, which I personally think is long
overdue." Her smile was so contagious that most of the trainees
found themselves smiling, too.

"Let me point out that Tenth Battalion's cadre is the finest.
Believe me, for everything new that we're all going to be
experiencing, we need them. Converting you from civilians to
disciplined, proud soldiers is not as easy as it sounds. Your drill
sergeants are not tough just for the hell of it. They don't get on
your case just because they feel like picking on you. They are
tough to make you tough, to make you the best and most highly
motivated soldiers you can be. I have no doubt you won't remember
your drill sergeants with a great deal of affection but I guarantee
you will remember then and you will respect them. If you
went through basic training as many times as they have, maybe you'd
even understand them but it isn't their job to make you like
them.

"We're aware of how you are going to be feeling over the next
couple of months. You're going to be more than tired. We realize
that for some of you, your schedules have been completely reversed.
You are getting up at 0445 instead of just getting in at that
time." It wasn't a coincidence that she was looking directly at
Dale when she said that and Dale wondered how she could always pick
her out in a crowd so fast. "That's a considerable adjustment for
some of you. Exhaustion is inevitable. But I would strongly advise
you not to fall asleep during your training day.

"The PT - Physical Training - as you already know, is not like a
high school gym class. It's hard, it's damned hard but you need it
and don't expect it to ease off as training advances. If nothing
else, it will only get harder. Also, you are going to march until
your feet are ready to fall off. But keep marching. And you are
going to run until you think you have no breath left. But keep
running. When the PT tests come around, you'd better push
yourselves to the max. It is all there inside of you, it is just a
matter of attitude.

"I will also strongly suggest that nobody gets into a fight
while they are here. That might cost you time you don't have and
some money and you are not making that much to lose. Besides, if
you have the extra energy to fight, it's saying to your drill
sergeants that you are not getting enough PT, which your drill
sergeants will then have to take out on your entire platoons and
that's not going to make you very popular in the
barracks.

"The chow will not conjure up memories of a home-cooked meal but
the food won't kill you, either. The menus have been much improved
over the past few years and, personally, I feel this battalion has
one of the best mess halls on post. I eat here many times and I'm
not dead yet - or at least that's what my husband tells me,"
Bishaye smiled, winking at the front row, causing a few sets of
hands to be folded over crotches.

"I am sure you realize by now that you have selected one of the
hardest times of the year to go through training - the dead of
winter. Summer has its disadvantages, too, with snakes and poison
ivy, heat prostration and sunstroke but you're faced with pneumonia
and frostbite. You will survive. You're not the first to deal with
this kind of weather and you will not be the last.

"Most of you are here by choice. And, this particular MOS is
your choice, also. However, just because you've opted to serve in
the Military Police Corps doesn't mean that's what you'll be
spending your entire enlistment time doing. You first have to get
through basic training and then LE School and continue to maintain
a certain standard to remain an MP.

"Being a military police officer is a privilege. It is one of
the Army's elite corps and you must constantly earn the right to
stay there. You will continually be on display. People will be
listening to everything you say and watching everything you do. You
cannot break the law, military or civilian, and expect to be
forgiven because of what you do. You cannot break the law and bust
somebody for the same things you do when you are not on duty. And
'off-duty' is just a figure of speech to a member of the Military
Police Corps, as you may not always be on the schedule but as an
MP, you are always on duty. You will discover, especially after you
have reached your first permanent duty station, that you must
maintain the highest level of military standards at all times. You
cannot be a hypocrite. You cannot preach what you do not practice.
Am I getting my point across? You cannot be perfect but you'd
better damned well try." Her tone was much more emphatic
now.

"If you are prejudiced, you will have to get over it. It's hard
to hold a prejudice against someone you are forced to eat, drink,
sleep and train with. You are literally spending twenty-four hours
a day with these people. You will either learn to love them a lot
or hate them intensely. Just remember, the person you may be making
racial slurs against is getting the same training you are and may
have to save your life one day. It's always good to have a clear
conscience if that day ever comes. Not that you won't make enemies,
you will, but the enemies you make in the military will fade away
when they are out of your sight but the friends you make are
forever." Once more, she searched out Dale's face, zeroing in on
it. "I can personally attest to that statement."

Dale's heart leapt in her chest again and she wondered why Anne
was doing this to her. Was she purposely trying to torture her?
Dale looked around, uncomfortably, hoping the people directly in
front of her, beside her and behind her were wishing that
affectionate expression on the colonel's face was for each one of
them. She knew, unless anyone was privy to their situation, no one
would have a clue that Anne was singling out Dale and, squirming
slightly in her chair, Dale wished the colonel would quit
it.

Bishaye looked over the crowd and continued. "In closing - no
applause, please - I need to mention AWOL. It means Absent Without
Official Leave. It's not kid stuff, it's a federal offense. If you
have a serious problem, talk it out with your drill sergeant, your
senior drill sergeant, your first sergeant, your training officer,
your company commander, your chaplain...even come to me, if no one
else will listen. Allow us the chance to help you resolve your
issues before you reach a point where you act irrationally. An AWOL
offense is something that will follow you around the rest of your
life, it will never go away and you will go to jail. So, I
am asking you to think over your options very carefully before you
make the choice to desert. Unfortunately, as most of you already
know, there was an incident in Alpha Company before Christmas
exodus which made us all realize that sometimes your problems are
much deeper than we think they are. Although, these were unusual
circumstances, we are not blind to the fact that it could happen
again.

"Most of you, especially in this group, are here because you
want to be, you freely enlisted, no one forced you to raise your
right hand and you need to take responsibility for that choice. We
understand that nothing will feel like it is going right at first
but it will all fall into place, believe me. The Army is an
entirely different environment than civilian life, it takes some
getting used to, some major adjustments for those of you who have
never been around the military. You are not in prison or a
concentration camp. There is a method to our madness and it is all
for your personal improvement, so suck it up. We want you to get
through these cycles as much as you want to get through them. The
end result is just as important to us. With that said, good luck
over the next three months. You're going to need it. I hope to see
you all at your graduations."

Everyone was so mesmerized by Bishaye, they didn't see Command
Sergeant Major Soledad enter the stage and stand off to the
colonel's right. When his harsh voice boomed, "BATTALION!
ATTENTION!" it visibly startled the first six rows. Recovering
quickly, the members of Tenth Battalion were on their
feet.